


tell me the way to Somewhere

by Snid



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snid/pseuds/Snid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 4 finale AU. There is no magic to bring Emma home and life goes on. At least, at first...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This will be Swan Queen, I swear.

Could you tell me the way to Somewhere —   
Some where, Some where,   
I have heard of a place called Somewhere —   
But know not where it can be.   
It makes no difference,   
Whether or not   
I go in dreams   
Or trudge on foot:   
Would you tell me the way to Somewhere,   
The Somewhere meant for me.

 

\-- Walter de la Mare

 

* * *

 

The silence that comes after Emma is sucked away into the vortex of darkness is enough to leave Regina’s ears ringing. In the back of her mind, she registers the slapping of sneakers against the pavement and thinks _'Henry Henry Henry'._

He doesn’t know about Emma, Regina realizes, and the oxygen feels like its being pulled from her lungs, so she twists herself out of Robin’s embrace and hurries to where her son has stopped next to his grandparents – his eyes darting between the dagger on the ground and his sobbing grandmother and stone-faced grandfather. 

“Where’s my mom?” Henry asks, voice cracking on the word “mom” and Regina’s heart _hurts_.

“Henry…” she says, her hand outstretched towards him. “Come here.”

Hook barely acknowledges the rest of the group, and with his eyes frozen on the dagger, he charges forward towards it. Henry catches this sudden movement and the wheels turn in his head and his feet hit the ground running, shoving Hook out of the way as he dives for the wretched blade.

He hits the ground with a ‘thud’ and Regina cringes as she walks up behind him. With trembling hands, Henry lifts the dagger up into the air.

“Emma Swan!” He cries out, and Regina doesn’t need to look at his face to know what it is that she will find there. She’s well versed in watching her son’s heart break, after all. “Mom!”  

Regina kneels down behind him and places a hand on his shoulder. “Henry.”

“I summon thee, Dark One! Please! _Please_! Come back! Mom!” He shouts, shaking the dagger like he would his PlayStation controller. Henry keeps reciting the summoning sentence he’s read in his storybook over and over again until his voice gives out and he inhales sharply – a long, gasping breath – and Regina knows it’s over. She spins Henry around and pulls him into her arms, where he chokes out muffled sobs. 

His hands clutch at her shirt as he buries his face in her neck. Regina’s hands move to sooth him – one running through his hair and the other on his back, pulling him close. “Henry, she’s not here. She’s not in this world. You know she would come to you if she was, she has to,” she whispers.

But her words go unheard by the trembling boy in her arms.

Eventually the group disbands – Hook is the first to leave, storming off towards the Jolly Roger, cursing at everything in sight. Robin is next, pausing to grasp Regina’s shoulder in a firm clasp, while she gives him a curt nod.

David and Snow stay behind, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

Regina looks up at them when they move closer and Henry moves to wrap one of his arms around his grandpa.

“I’m going to get her back,” Regina says, her eyes fixed firmly on Snow’s large wet ones.

Snow gives her a quivering smile. “I know you will. I believe in you.”

“We’ll help you,” David adds. “We’re going to find her.”

Regina exchanges a soft glance with him and the four of them pick themselves up off the street. And it’s here, in the cool nighttime air of Storybrooke, that she finally feels like she’s found her family.

All that’s missing is the one person who brought them all together.

 

\----------

 

It takes her many long, sleepless weeks before Regina finally admits to herself that they are, for lack of a better term, all out of options.

There are no more magic beans to be found in Storybrooke – and haven’t been any since they returned from Neverland. She racks her brain for ideas, pouring through spell book after spell book in hopes that maybe someone somewhere had discovered something once upon a time, but who in their right mind would ever want to hunt down the Dark One?

Magic wands, magic portals, magic hats?

No. No. No.

“I’m sorry,” Regina says in a quiet voice when she shows up at the Charmings’ front door to bear the news. Snow breaks down instantly, dissolving into a puddle of tears as she nearly collapses against the doorframe. 

David’s mouth is set in a firm line, his arms reaching out to pull Snow into an embrace. His eyes are watery, but Regina knows he’ll save his tears for later – his determination to put on a brave face for his wife and everyone around him proving to be occasionally admirable.

“What happens now?” He asks, holding Snow to his chest. Snow lifts her head at this, eyes bright red with flushed cheeks covered in tear tracks.

Regina’s mouth twists downwards, eyes darting back and forth between the Charmings – wrapped up in each other’s arms. She used to hate the two of them and their happiness with every fiber of her being. It amazes her, sometimes, how far they’ve all come.

“I don’t know,” Regina admits, biting down on her lower lip.

She takes her leave to the sound of Snow sobbing.

 

\----------

 

Naturally, Regina’s next move is to storm into the hospital. Belle had long since requested that Gold be moved into room there, and Regina didn’t have the heart to deny her. One look into the brunette’s weary, exhausted gaze was enough to confirm that Regina Mills, the once fearsome Evil Queen, had truly gone soft. Or, more likely, she _understood_.

Belle had been spending hours in the library alongside Regina doing research, albeit, with different intents: Belle to wake up Rumplestiltskin and Regina to find a way to save Emma.

On occasion, Regina would pause in her reading to watch Belle frantically scribble down notes from a book, flipping and tearing through the worn pages. She often wondered what she herself looked like after pulling these late-night sessions, but one glance down at her own frenzied notes and a covert peak across the table to meet Belle’s bloodshot eyes proved that she already knew the answer to that question.

But Belle doesn’t have to worry about saving the Savior, or breaking the hearts of the two people whose hatred has blossomed into friendship and bloomed into family.

Regina sits on the edge of Gold’s hospital bed, white-knuckled fingers gripping the dingy mattress. She pries them off before she burns a hole in the sheets and turns to look at his blank face.

“So, how about this for irony,” Regina announces to the comatose man. “Not only am I the reason the Charmings never got to raise their daughter, I’m also the reason they were able to be reunited with her. Oh, the real kicker here though? Now that we're all warm and fuzzy, _I’m_ the reason they’re never going to see her again.”

He can’t respond. Maybe he’ll never be able to open his mouth again.

Good riddance.

Regina stares down at the man who is the cause of so much pain and so much joy in her life. He was part of the reason she went spiraling down this path of darkness, but as a result of that, she was gifted the greatest light in her life: Henry. 

_‘Oh god, what I am going to tell Henry?’_

Taking a shuddering breath, Regina stands up and hurries out of the room. 

 

\----------

 

It has been nearly a week since she had showed up at the Charmings’ door late that night – no longer able to keep her somber discovery a secret. Henry has been silent for most of it – even since she came home from that hospital that day, sitting him down at the kitchen table and taking one of his hands in her own.

_I'm sorry, Henry. I tried...I tried everything I could._

_You should've tried harder!_

To be fair, though, she’s not been very talkative either these past few days.

When he comes home from school now, Henry makes a beeline to his room. He’s been spending most of his time up there, simultaneously avoiding Regina and the rest of his family while sorting through a box of Emma’s things.

She didn’t come to Storybrooke with much, but the few things she had saved over the years clearly meant the world to her. And maybe at one point, they _were_ her world – the only constant in a life full of things shifting and changing around her.

Regina has so far managed to keep it together, but she should have known it wasn’t going to last. The final nail in the coffin surprises even her, though.

She goes into Henry’s room to say goodnight, a full thirty days after Emma and the darkness, only to find him already fast asleep. His face is damp with tears, and that alone is enough to shred away at Regina’s defenses – but what gets her, what _really_ gets her, is the cream-colored baby blanket that he has clutched to his chest.

She’s never seen it before – it’s certainly not Henry’s baby blanket, after all. She remembers every detail about Henry’s childhood, including those days where she felt so scared that this happiness was going to one day get taken away from her, like every other good thing in her life. It’s only when she moves to get a closer look at the purple stitching on it that she realizes her why her son’s nose is buried in the soft fabric.

Etched across the blanket is Emma’s name and Regina just barely makes it out of Henry’s room before she props her body up against the wall and finally, _finally_ , lets the tears come.


	2. years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The delay for the second chapter has been nothing short of ridiculous. Like, 125 days. Wow, um, yeah. Sorry about that.

It’s been nearly 4 months since the darkness took Emma away. 

Regina remembers how the passage of time felt back when she had first whisked the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest off to Storybrooke: a distant, slowed down tempo that thrummed in the back of her mind; the way the sun crept slowly across the sky during the day and how shadows crept along as well; how loudly she could hear the second hand tick tick tick away on the grandfather clock in the foyer. 

She hears it now, ticking out a beat while she sits at the dining room table staring at the empty place setting across from her. Regina had talked it over with Snow and David, asking them to approach Henry with the suggestion that he return to Dr. Hopper for therapy sessions. She knew what kind feelings would be dredged up if she brought up the subject, so she swallowed her pride and went to the Charmings. They are his grandparents after all, might as well do _something_ useful.

At least now Henry no longer stomped away to his room with dinner in tow, staying up there to avoid her and whoever she could persuade to come over to try and coax him down. Instead he was just…quiet – choosing to quickly eat his dinner and clean up after himself, before heading back upstairs. 

Sometimes, late at night when Regina was sipping from a tumbler of her strongest apple cider, she let her mind drift, wondering why she wasn’t enough for Henry. And as quick as she was talk to herself out of those thoughts, they still showed up regardless: gnawing away at the back of her mind.

It really has nothing to do with her though — except, in a sick, twisted way, it has everything to do with her. 

The family unit that Henry had craved and painstakingly put together was once again fractured. Emma had been the glue holding them together, and without her, they were all falling apart. 

But the thing about grief, Regina’s learned, is that it depends on the person.

Having existed in her own little bubble for so long, where her experiences belonged to her and her alone and no one else to relate to, it felt strange to be part of this new family that Emma had cultivated, knowing she was not alone in her grief.

Regina watched as denial hit Snow the hardest. Convinced that there must have been something she could do, she spent those early weeks dashing around like a madwoman: pestering a weary Belle at the library, deeply entrenched in her own problems with Gold; begging the fairies to pull off some magical stunt; and even coming back to Regina, asking her to try again, please, just one last time.

And Regina understood, to an extent. She would be beside herself if Henry had gotten ripped out of her life - and to be fair, she's already lived through it once. But her relationship with Henry is nothing like the relationship that Emma had with Snow. Henry was Regina's new beginning, the start of her redemption and the light of her life. They compliment each other to the fullest extent. 

Snow loves Emma, yes, but the parent and child bond is virtually nonexistent. Snow sees Emma as the final part of her perfect family circle: The prince, the princess, the bouncing baby girl, the castle, and the kingdom. A fairy-tale dollhouse if there ever was one.

But the real world is far harsher and crueler than a storybook, and Emma had seen that first hand. The Land Without Magic had made Emma into something different from her parents – she lacked their black and white morality and instead, was able to see things for the grey, line-blurring situations that they were.

And sometimes, after Regina had consumed enough of the cider to feel the rush of a warm buzz running through her, she let her mind drift to Emma’s sacrifice.

She tries not to think about it at all, and is thankful that the memories are generally hazy now – the sheer adrenaline running through her at the time making things fuzzy. But Regina remembers screaming at Emma as clear as cloud-free day, the sound of herself yelling “NO!” sometimes enough to startle her out of a deep slumber. One time she woke up crying, remembering the way Emma had looked almost peaceful as she accepted her fate – the tendrils of darkness whipping up her golden hair around her face.

She wishes, selfishly, stabbing a piece of broccoli with her fork and shoving it in her mouth, that Henry would snap out of it. They’re _all_ hurting. But none of the others had locked eyes with Emma in those final moments, as she willingly took on the burden meant for Regina.

None of them…save for Regina.

It’s horrible though, Regina thinks, her fork clattering to her plate and echoing through the empty room. Whatever anger she is harboring towards Henry is ridiculous and unfounded and she damn well knows it. Her son is barely a teenager. Regardless of however much maturity he’s shown in the past few years, she can’t expect him to understand the things she is feeling. 

Except, as Dr. Hopper mentions to her one afternoon, maybe she can. 

It’s the guilt that’s eating away at her son, in the same way that it’s been eating away at her. Henry had destroyed the quill, and according to him, his only chance at bringing Emma back to Storybrooke. 

( _“I brought her here once, I could’ve done it again, I could’ve…” he had sobbed to Archie at one session, his voice splitting and cracking in the way it does for thirteen year old boys with the weight of the world on their shoulders._ )

Regina nearly starts crying herself when she hears this, excusing herself from Archie’s company and practically sprinting home in her heels, so caught up in the sheer whirlwind of emotion that she forgot to just poof herself there. She doesn’t stop until she barrels through the front door of her own house and up the stairs, banging on Henry’s bedroom door. 

“Henry!” she cries out, simultaneously out of breath and just _hurting_. 

He opens the door, and Regina looks at the dark circles under his eyes and just sobs, feeling foolish and selfish and so many horrible things all at once. She pulls her son into her arms and he lets himself be held by his mother, wrapping his arms around her neck and pressing his face into the curve of her shoulder. 

“I miss her, mom,” he says, his voice small and quiet and so much like a child’s. 

Regina squeezes her eyes tight and whispers her response into her growing boy’s hair. 

“I miss her, too.”

 

* * *

 

Three months after Henry starts therapy again, things with Robin finally come to a head. 

Truthfully, Regina has spent most of the 7 months after Emma’s departure apart from him – either working in her office or doing research at the library. Her relationship with Belle is tentative – Regina doesn’t blame her though, she did horrible things back in the Enchanted Forest and Belle has been through enough disastrous relationships for one lifetime. The two of them are content to exist in their quiet camaraderie, and that is just fine. 

But Regina knows she can’t possibly hide out in the library forever. Eventually, she has to face Robin. It’s terrible to drag him along like this – giving him the false hope that one day their relationship will return to its original state. 

She calls him for the first time in ages, telling him to meet her at Granny’s for coffee. He’s elated, and Regina frowns at his eager tone over the phone. 

“I think we should break up,” Regina says to him when they’re sitting together hours later, spine rigid as she leans against the back of the booth. 

“But the fairy dust…Regina, that meant we were destined to be together.”

“We might have been destined to be together, but that doesn’t mean we were destined to stay together,” Regina says, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on. She sighs, putting down her mug of coffee. “The fairy dust led me to you, my soul mate. But here’s the thing about fairy dust: it runs on belief. I believed that the dust was going to lead me to the person I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with, and it led me to you. But sometimes the people we’re with aren’t the people we’re meant to spend the rest of our lives with.”

“But I love you,” Robin says quietly. Those words aren’t enough for Regina, not anymore. Regina gives him a sad smile, as his eyes grow wet.

“I really am sorry, Robin,” she whispers, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “I know you want your happy ending, but I want mine too, and right now…I don’t think us being together is a part of that. I just don’t think I can give one hundred percent of myself to anyone else at the moment. Right now, I just need to live for _me_.”

 

* * *

 

Regina starts seeing Archie not long after.

It happens gradually. From their brief meetings to discuss how Henry is doing to longer intervals, with Regina slipping in facts about her own day.

(“ _I haven’t slept in two days.”_

_“ I drank an entire bottle of wine.”_

_“I dropped a vial in my vault and I just pressed my finger into a piece of glass and there was blood and I didn’t even **think** …”)_

She threatens Archie about it, repeatedly, telling him that if he so much as _thinks_ about her coming in for sessions in the presence of another person, she’ll have his head. But the man takes her threats in stride, much to her chagrin. If anything, his willingness to listen to whatever she says and keep any ridiculous commentary to himself is what finally gets her to start opening up. 

“I’m not used to people doing things like that for me. I don’t understand why she would sacrifice so much for me, I’m not…” Regina trails off, taking a sharp breath. 

Archie frowns, leaning forward on his chair. “You’re not what, Regina?” 

Regina’s eyes dart to the window, the floor, and then back to Archie. She takes a sharp, shuddering breath. “I’m not worth it.”

She’s blinking rapidly now, trying to stem the flow of tears she knows is coming. She doesn’t want to cry in front of Archie – but it’s been too long. Snow and David have had each other, and Henry has had her…but Regina? Who did she have to turn to? Not Emma, not anymore. 

“I’m angry that she sacrificed herself for me. I wasn’t worth it. I’m still not worth it. She thought I’d be able to bring her back! Emma _believed_ in me and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why!” 

The dam inside her bursts again. She hasn’t cried like this – in so much raw, silent pain – since Daniel had died in her arms. 

Archie waits, watching her as she nearly blows through an entire box of tissues. It’s embarrassing and horrible and makes Regina wish for the earth to open up and swallow her whole, but eventually, she calms down enough to be reduced to the occasional sniffle. 

“I can’t be what Emma wanted me to be,” she whispers hoarsely. “I can’t be some kind of…savior.” 

“I don’t think Emma would’ve wanted you to replace her,” Archie says. 

Regina’s head snaps up. “And what would _you_ know about what Emma wants?” 

Archie is unfazed. “Well, what about you, Regina? What do you know about what Emma wants?” 

Somehow, despite being unable to come up with an answer, Regina leaves her session feeling both impossibly light and entirely too heavy.

 

* * *

 

Three years post-Emma. 

It’s a grey, rainy afternoon when Henry finalizes the list of colleges he wants to apply to. 

Nearly all of them are either around Boston or New York City, and Regina’s heart hurts for so many, many reasons. 

The thought of her little boy – because even though at seventeen, with Henry now towering over her, he will always be her little boy – leaving the home where he grew up to live in another city makes her eyes water. But what also has her heart clenching are the cities themselves. Boston was where Henry had first met Emma – the true beginning of _their_ story together. 

New York City was where they had wound up in during the year that everyone had forgotten. It had been a whole year of playing house, as if Emma had never given Henry up for adoption at all. Regina had gifted her memories to Emma – everything from changing Henry’s diapers to walking him to school on his first day of kindergarten to soothing away his nightmares.

Except for Henry, and Emma, it wasn’t playing house at all – it was real life. That whole year amounted to treasured time together that they would have never had otherwise were it not for Regina’s own personal sacrifice. 

Sometimes Regina forgets just how much Henry misses his other mother. The two of them had formed a deep visceral connection over the few short years they had known each other – so much so that occasionally Regina will find herself wishing that maybe, in another universe, her and Emma were able to raise their wonderful, brilliant boy together. 

But those thoughts leave her with a strange taste in her mouth and a blush tingeing her cheeks, so she is always quick to clamp them down.

 

* * *

 

She gets a text message from Snow just a few days later that reads: _Please come over when you get a chance._  

So Regina finishes up her grocery shopping and drives her Mercedes over to the Charmings’ apartment. 

The click-clack of her heeled boots up the stairs must alert Snow to her presence because before Regina can even lift a hand to knock on the door, it swings open, revealing a sobbing, red-faced Snow. 

“Are you alright?” Regina asks, her eyes widening at the sight of the Snow looking so…defeated. Decades ago, she would have cheered at the sight of this, but today, she feels nothing but concern. 

“Snow, what’s wrong?” she asks, voice shifting in tone – the sound of a friend looking to protect. 

Snow doesn’t answer; instead she takes Regina by the wrist and leads her through the apartment and into the bathroom. 

“I went before I left, thanks,” Regina says, giving Snow her usually deserved side-eye. 

Snow snorts, but the effect is diminished with each newly shed tear running down her face. With a trembling hand, she lets go of Regina and points to the sink – where a pregnancy test is resting on the counter. 

Regina leans over the counter, her lips parting slightly in understanding at the sight of the small plus sign. 

“I’m pregnant,” Snow whispers. 

 _Oh_ , Regina thinks. And that familiar ache for Emma rips through her like a storm.

 

* * *

 

It’s a girl, because, of course it is. 

Regina watches the way Snow’s face falls at Dr. Whale’s announcement. David isn’t doing much to hide his facial expressions either – closing his eyes and clamping his lips together tight.

Dr. Whale’s eyes dart from one person to the next, ultimately deciding to bow out of the room, giving them time to process the information. 

Regina wants to be sarcastic, but the mood is too tense and it would just be _wrong_. The last time Snow had been pregnant with a baby girl had been full of anxieties for both parties involved. 

Now, Snow and David would finally get to raise a daughter of theirs – a little girl who, in their eyes, would get everything that was originally meant for Emma. 

Regina knew Emma wouldn’t see it that way. Yes, the hurt would be there – the thought of that little girl growing up with her parents and receiving the love and attention that Emma could only dream about growing up.

But the difference would be that Emma would love that little kid too. They were a family now, all of them, no matter what.

 

* * *

 

Two months before the due date, Snow calls Regina over for a girls’ night. Regina pretends not to enjoy it and gripes about it to Henry the whole day before, but deep inside, she enjoys the company of her former enemy. They catch each other’s references to their distant home, and tease each other about things in their current one. 

“Regina?” Snow says later that night. They’re sipping hot cocoa (Snow’s with whipped cream and cinnamon; Regina’s tasting faintly of mint) and watching whichever cheesy Hallmark movie is on. 

“Hm?” 

“I wanted to ask your opinion about the baby’s name.” 

“You finally picked one?”

“Yes! It’s just…I like the idea of keeping certain memories alive. People we’ve loved, people we’ve lost.” 

“If the next sentence out of your mouth is you telling me that you’re going to name the baby after my mother, so help me, I will burn this place to the ground.” 

“Well, no, but side note, you’re really not that threatening in plaid pajamas.” 

“And you’re not that threatening…well, ever. But go on.” 

“Danielle.” 

Regina nearly drops her mug. Her lips part, head tilting to the side. “Danielle? As in… _Daniel_ , my Daniel?” 

Snow nods, her eyes glistening in the low light. 

Regina remembers the pain she felt – so many years of agonizing over her lost love, gone forever for so many reasons, but in her mind, most of all due to a little girl who couldn’t keep her mouth shut. 

Regina stares at that same little girl, now a lion-hearted and heartbroken mother, and lets the tears slip down her cheeks. 

“I…yes, I think it’ll do,” she whispers, and Snow pulls Regina into an embrace and Regina – the once dark-hearted, vicious Evil Queen – lets herself be held by her former nemesis.

 

* * *

 

At eighteen, Henry is mostly aloof about the thought of his new aunt. Most of his answers to baby-related questions are monosyllabic, and his immediate family had all but given up bothering to talk to him about it. 

Except, when he sits down on the hospital bed next to Snow so she can pass him the baby, Regina’s heart feels like it’s about to explode. Something about seeing her tall, gangly boy – who trips on air and stutters through conversations with pretty girls – holding Danielle dredges up a smile onto her lips and moisture to her eyes. Henry is smiling down at the baby, a genuine smile – and when he lifts his head to meet his mother’s eyes, he practically glows. 

Snow pauses in her adjustment of a tiny corner of Danielle’s blanket, looking up from her daughter to offer Regina a smile. "Would you like to hold her?" she asks. 

Regina's eyes widen, but before she can even begin to protest, David gently lifts the baby up from Henry and is strolling over to her, placing the tiny bundle in her arms. 

Truth be told, she has never actually held a newborn before. Henry had already been several weeks old by the time he had arrived in Boston, filling up the space in her arms. But Danielle is scarcely a few hours old, wrapped up in heaps of blankets with what has to be the world's tiniest pink beanie on top of a little pile of fuzzy blonde hair. 

Regina starts to smile despite herself. "Hello there, little one," she coos, a tone of voice she hasn't used in years – not since Henry was still small enough to be carried around. 

The baby's eyes are still scrunched up shut, but she’s warm and real and whole in Regina’s arms and she feels ridiculous at the salty tears stinging her eyes, but for the first time in a long time, she feels content. 

“Welcome to the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I covered 5 years but my math could be wrooooong. I’m going off Henry being 13 when Emma gets dragged away by Evil Cloud of Darkness. 
> 
> (And I will do my best to have the next chapter up in 125 days or less!)

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a multi-chapter fic in about 5 or 6 years? Please bear with me, I have an actual plan of sorts for this one.


End file.
